


Guns & Gadgets

by yankmywand



Category: James Bond (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-01
Updated: 2012-12-01
Packaged: 2017-11-19 23:12:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/578665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yankmywand/pseuds/yankmywand
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small exchange of conversation between the Secret Agent and the Quartermaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guns & Gadgets

There was no time to loose. He was running along the alley with a handgun pointed to the ground as he slid up against the wall with his lips tightly pressed together. If you only looked closely, you could see how his lips were, in fact, moving, murmuring things into a small bug located god knows where. Q had put it somewhere, a place where Bond could only guess. And he heard that sassy voice, smooth and collected, murmuring back to him,

“They are moving south east, towards The National museum, and 007, they are heavily armed,” He heard only a portion of sarcasm and there was a snort coming from Bond as he stashed the gun between the hem of his trousers and his skin. He made some sort of noise, apparently, because he got a snide comment through the earpiece in his ear,  
“Did you put it back down in your trousers?”

“Where do you suggest I put it when I have no place for a holster wearing only a simple t-shirt, Q?” Bond moved down along the street, looking around everywhere for Kaszinski’s men. He could not be seen, and so, Q had suggested a simple t-shirt and a pair of jeans. It was a change from the suit he usually wore to his missions. But this was blending in with society, and wearing a suit on Trafalgar Square on a Saturday in June was just as foolish as bringing a Remington 700 into Tesco.

“I suggest nothing, 007, I merely noticed the sound you make when you get something cold pressed to your body,” And looking around in the office where he was standing in front of the big screen, Q made sure that no one had heard that. Two seconds later, he got a gritty response from the double agent,

“If you are referring to Friday night, why would you think ice cream is good to eat from the slope of my back?” Bond’s voice was more gritty than usual, and Q felt himself inhale quite sharply.   
“Yes, and… don’t pretend you didn’t like it, because if you think that you can lie to _me,_ you are making a grave mistake, 007,” The younger man’s voice was low and reserved, but Bond definitely detected some excitement in that perfect Chelsea drawl of his Quartermaster.

“I didn’t know it was a Quartermaster’s job to bring Whiskey and ice cream, I thought you were all about the guns and the gadgets,” Bond grinned as he slammed the door shut to the Aston Martin he noticed from the Headquarters parking house, “Did you think I would blend in the crowd in this?”

“I know yours got blown up at Skyfall—“ Q interrupted himself, and blinked behind his spectacles as he pushed them further up on his nose. That had been a sensitive subject, and M was rarely mentioned by Bond, or around him, “Ah, I mean, you like decently nice cars, is all,” He tapped on some keys and zoomed in on the tracking at the big screen, “Driving past The National Gallery in two, co-ordinates are being sent to the car.”

“To the car?!” Bond’s surprised voice was proof enough that he didn’t really believe Q on his words, but when Q laughed and shook his head, he heard Bond sigh, and answered,

“Yes, to the car, press the first button on the left, and then the fourth from the right,” He heard Bond murmur something about gadgets and guns before he heard the familiar robotic sound of the radio turning inside-out and there was a small screen, where co-ordinates were displayed. Bond merely blinked. Yes, he was used to gadgets that made his enemies stay perfectly still for an hour, but there were really nothing like this in those cars. Q heard another snort and Bond began to loudly complain, but there was an undertone of humour in his voice,

“Destroying an old car like this, what are you, Doc?”

Q laughed quietly and swiped his fingers over the keyboard, his fingers wobbling over the keys and he shivered when he heard the car roaring to a start.

“I didn’t _destroy_ it, I merely enhanced it, made it more useful to you. Please get it back in one piece, I worked on that for a while… I mean, _months_ ,” His snotty comments made Bond press even harder down on the gas pedal, and he sped through London, on his way out of the city.   
“If you worked for _months_ on it, why did you send it out with me, Q? You didn’t get the gun back, the last time, and you didn’t get the radio either,” Bond was actually laughing now, and it was Q’s time to snort,

“Why do you think?”

It didn’t take Bond long to figure it out, and when he did, he smiled, and looked in the back mirror.

“Are you going to be on that blasted computer all night in my lap again, or can I actually have you to myself tonight? Let her rest, you are pressing her buttons too much. I’d like to press _your_ buttons.”

“The computer can definitely get a little rest,” Q’s voice was softer than before, “Bring dinner, I’ll have the wine ready.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And with that, Agent double-oh-seven made his way out of London, with the largest grin on his lips.


End file.
